A Mother's Mistake Poem by Edwina Reizer

How many wives have you taken to bed?
At last count it was seven you wed.
And was there not one to make you content?
You picked up and left. There you went
in search of another to take their place
and why the hurry? Why the quick pace?

Perhaps you'd be better to be alone,
never to share all that you own.
For none made you happy. None brought you joy.
Or was it the opposite? Were they just a toy
to be discarded when they became a bore?
I think seven's enough. You don't need more.

You never needed to have a wife.
Born to be a bachelor all of your life.
And yet you look for another I see.
Are you looking for someone to be like me?
There's none like your mother. That you must know.
I made a mistake by spoiling you so.